Two Whom I Love
by Isilarma
Summary: Never before had Aragorn feared returning Imladris. Of course, never before had he been pledged to marry the only daughter of Lord Elrond.


**Two Whom I Love**

**Isilarma**

**This was written because the movie characterisation of Elrond, particularly his attitude towards Aragorn, was one of the few things that genuinely annoyed me about the films. I hope you all enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the Tolkien Estate.**

* * *

Aragorn reigned in his horse at the top of the pass leading to the heart of Imladris. He wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a good meal; it had been a long patrol, and though he had not sustained serious injury, he was tired and sore. But, despite the demands of his body, Aragorn could not bring himself to move. For the first time he could remember, the sight of his home elicited a sense of dread.

Understandable really. It was the first time he had visited since he and Arwen had pledged to marry.

Aragorn closed his eyes. Elrond had taken him in, and had never treated him as anything less than his own son, but now... Despair welled up; how could even someone like Elrond love the man trying to steal his only daughter? He opened his eyes to stare down at the familiar valley. It was the only true home he had ever had, but in truth he would rather be on his way back into the wild. He was on the point of turning his horse to do just that when he caught sight of a familiar, golden-haired ellon coming up the path to meet him.

"Well met, Estel."

Aragorn couldn't help but smile back. "It is good to see you, Glorfindel."

The Elf's eyes sparkled as he came to a halt next to him. "Indeed, and not a moment too soon."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you have clearly fallen into some bad habits. I thought I taught you better than to hide in plain sight."

"I am not hiding," Aragorn protested. "I am merely catching my breath."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "If it's taking you twenty minutes to catch your breath, then we really do have a problem."

"I am not injured."

"That makes a change."

Aragorn rolled his eyes. "You are never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"I might. Eventually. But if you are not injured, then you must have gotten out of shape." He gave a brilliant smile. "I'm sure we can fix that."

"I am not that fatigued," said Aragorn quickly. Glorfindel's training regimes were infamous for good reason.

Glorfindel folded his arms. "Then you're standing around because you like the view?" Aragorn glared at him, but the elf only chuckled. "Come, Estel. Elrond awaits you."

Aragorn grimaced. "I see."

Glorfindel's eyes narrowed. "Something wrong?"

Aragorn shook his head. "No. Nothing."

Glorfindel stared straight into his eyes, and Aragorn had the familiar, and still uncomfortable, feeling that his soul was being searched. "What?"

Glorfindel sighed. "I never took you for a coward, Aragorn."

Aragorn could only stare at him. "Excuse me?"

"I said you are being a coward."

Anyone else and Aragorn would have challenged them with his next breath, but Glorfindel had been his teacher and friend for many years. As such, Aragorn decided he had one chance.

"Explain yourself."

Glorfindel continued to stare steadily at him, and Aragorn couldn't help feeling like a foolish child again. "I taught you to face your problems," he said. "Not to flee from them."

"I am not hiding," Aragorn protested, but even to his own ears, the declaration rang false.

Glorfindel sighed. "Do you truly fear your adar?"

"He is not my adar," Aragorn muttered.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "He is in every way that matters."

Aragorn looked away. "Not after this." How could he be?

A hand rested on his shoulder. "Look at me, Estel."

There was no resisting the power of that command. Aragorn looked up to meet the elf-lord's bright grey-blue eyes, and Glorfindel continued.

"There is nothing you can do that will change his love for you." After a moment, he added more gently, "Nor mine."

Aragorn's throat tightened. "I think I did the one thing that could."

Glorfindel rolled his eyes heavenward. "And I used to think Turgon was stubborn." Aragorn opened his mouth, but Glorfindel didn't give him a chance to interrupt. "If you think your adar will despise you for whom you choose to love, then you do not know him nearly as well as you think you do."

Aragorn jerked back. "You know?"

"I do."

"But how?" He had been so careful.

Glorfindel, despite being the one not on horseback, managed to look down his nose at him. "Have you not learned, after all this time, that I know everything?"

Aragorn snorted. "Except not to hide Erestor's harp."

"I maintain that I am doing the rest of Imladris a favour."

Aragorn smiled at the familiar banter, but his apprehension soon surfaced again. "Does Adar know?"

Glorfindel just looked at him. "That is something you will have to ask him."

Aragorn grimaced, but although Glorfindel's face was sympathetic, there was a resolve there that Aragorn had long ago learned not to question. The earlier accusation of cowardice rang in his ears, and Aragorn suddenly decided he was tired of hiding. He was not Estel any more, not the scared child who had called for his adar. He was Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Chief of the Dúnedain, and the last of Isildur's heirs. And he was the beloved of Arwen Undómiel. He drew himself up and looked Glorfindel straight in the eye.

"Do you know where he is?"

The pride that lit Glorfindel's eyes was almost enough to ease his fears. "I left him in his study an hour ago with a stack of paperwork a foot high."

"I'll try there first then," said Aragorn dryly.

Glorfindel laughed. "That would probably be a good idea." The levity faded as he gripped Aragorn's shoulder. "Talk to him. He will understand."

Aragorn sighed. "I hope you are right."

Glorfindel rapped him lightly on the head. "What did I just say? I am-"

"-always right," Aragorn finished, and this time his smile was a genuine one.

Glorfindel grinned back. "Exactly." His expression softened. "I have known your adar for many years, Aragorn. There is nothing he loves more than his children."

Aragorn sighed as he turned to stare down at the Last Homely House. "That is what I am afraid of."

* * *

Aragorn stood at the door to Elrond's study. He had spent many happy hours here over his life, from playing with the twins while their adar attempted to work, to listening to Elrond tell him stories under the guise of helping him with his history. Here he had been disciplined when childish enthusiasm landed him in trouble, or when carelessness in battle led to injury of himself and others. Here he had learned his true name and lineage, and had learned what he needed to lead his kinsmen.

Never had he feared entering as he did now.

But it had to be done. Aragorn squared his shoulders, reminded himself that he was a tried and tested warrior and leader, and knocked on the door.

"Come."

Aragorn entered to find Elrond indeed busy with a stack of paperwork. The elf-lord looked up, and genuine delight lit his eyes.

"Estel." He rose and greeted him with a kiss. "Are you well? I did not expect you for another few days."

"I am fine, Adar," Aragorn assured him. "I made better time than I expected." He continued to watch warily for any sign of displeasure, but Elrond just smiled.

"I am glad to hear it. I have missed you, ion nîn."

Aragorn stared at him. Still no anger, not even disappointment. Why was he acting like nothing had changed? He must not have heard the news yet. He felt a sudden rush of disappointment, but it was the only explanation that made sense.

"Estel?"

Aragorn took a deep breath. "My Lord, there is something I need to tell you."

Elrond frowned at him, but his expression abruptly cleared. "I see."

"What?" He felt a sudden rush of terror, but Elrond's eyes softened, and he laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I know, Estel."

Aragorn's breath caught in his throat. "You – you do?"

Elrond's expression didn't change. "I do."

This wasn't right. This wasn't what he had expected. "About Arwen and I?"

Elrond raised an eyebrow. "Was there something else?"

"N-no," Aragorn mumbled. This didn't make any sense.

Elrond gave him a smile that was tinged with sadness. "I know my daughter's heart, Estel. Just as I know yours."

Aragorn stared at him. "I do not understand."

"I knew the moment she pledged herself to another," said Elrond quietly. "Something she would do for no one but you."

Aragorn nodded slowly. "She said you might."

"Then what is the matter?"

Aragorn stared into the eyes of the elf who had protected him and loved him for as long as he could remember, and it was like the past decades had never happened, and he was just the scared, confused child. "I did not think you would approve."

Elrond sighed and turned away. "I do not."

Aragorn's heart sank. "My Lord," he began, but Elrond held up a hand.

"I cannot approve of my daughter choosing to forsake her people. I cannot approve of her choosing death over life in the Undying Lands. She is, after all, my daughter."

Aragorn closed his eyes. He had expected to hear it, but it was still painful. But he looked up again when Elrond continued, his harsh tone lightening, if only a little.

"But I would rather she live a Mortal life with the one that she loves, and live in joy, than face all the Ages until the Renewing alone." He gave a smile that held nothing but pain as he laid both his hands on Aragorn's shoulders. "You are as much a son to me as my own children, Estel. I would never wish unhappiness upon any of my children."

Aragorn's throat tightened. "Adar..." He didn't have the words, but Elrond solved that problem by drawing him into his arms.

"You are the last heir of my brother, Estel, and one of the greatest." He drew back, and now it was the elf-lord, and not the loving father talking. "You have the potential to rise above all others. And you will have to."

Aragorn frowned. "What do you mean?"

Elrond's grey eyes gleamed. "You have my daughter's love, and I will not gainsay that. But you will not marry. Not yet. She will marry the King of Gondor and Arnor, and no other."

Aragorn stared at him. "King?"

"I will not leave her here under Sauron's darkness," Elrond said quietly. He took a step closer. "Become the man you were destined to be, Aragorn. That man, and that man alone, will be worthy of her."

Aragorn looked straight at him. He had known it was coming, Arwen had said as much. But that did not make it any easier.

"Do you think I can do it?" He winced at the words, hearing in them the uncertainty of a child, unbefitting in one full grown, but Elrond just kissed his brow, as he had so many times in the past.

"That is up to you, my son," he said gently. "Only you can decide your fate."

Aragorn drew in a deep breath and released it. He knew what he had to do, had known ever since Elrond had told him of his heritage all those years ago. But to actually do it... He started when Elrond laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Adar?"

Elrond's piercing gaze met his. "I cannot tell you how to live your life," he said. "But no matter what you choose, you will always have my support." His expression softened, until he was once again the gentle foster father. "And you will always have my love."

"Thank you, Adar," Aragorn whispered.

For Arwen's sake, he would try. With Elrond's support, he might just succeed.

"Finally!"

Elrond rolled his eyes. "Who was it who taught my children not to eavesdrop?"

There was a rustle, and then Glorfindel's upside down head appeared at the window. "I did warn you about this tree. It is not my fault if you didn't listen."

Aragorn folded his arms. "Fine then, but if you fall and break your leg, do not come running to us."

The laughter of the two Elves rang through the valley, and for the first time in months, Aragorn allowed himself to relax. Maybe this would not be so impossible after all.

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**Any feedback would be very much appreciated.**


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